RENT 2: Mark's Turn
by The Purple Cat
Summary: My own sequal to the ever so great RENT Everything (c) Jonathan Larson but Rachel whom is copyright me
1. We Begin...

1 MARK  
  
I gazed at the two lovers in a mixture of contentment, but at the same time I was full of distressing thoughts. Mimi, thanks to the works of God and an amorous dead man, was back to live another day. The virus would not take her quite yet, although we all knew that not an hour ago she was weak, drugged up, and was to be one more young life taken by the acquired immune deficiency syndrome. Though she stood there among us, healthier and happier then I've even seen her, I knew AIDS takes people quickly, and I knew that next time there might not be another 'miracle' appearance by Angel. We all knew, especially Collins, that Angel had had no loving guide to send him back to us, and Collins was left here alone. There were A LOT of things we all knew. I'm starting to sound like a waking cliché. Maureen and Joanne shared a small kiss as I watched in disgust. Yea, something ELSE for my mind to focus on. Believe me I say that in such extreme sarcasm it makes me nauseous.  
  
My best friend had his girl back, Collins was obviously more content nowadays then he's been since Angel's death, and me---well, shouldn't I be happy for them? Happy for myself for the simple fact that I'm one the few in my group to remain HIV NEGATIVE. I knew what my dreary mood was about, I knew all along, and I hated myself for thinking like this. I'm jealous of what everybody has. While they all go around, perfectly content with what they have, I remain here alone, with my unfinished screenplays and unfinished films. My last flame stood there with her GIRLFRIEND for God's sake!! And the last job I was offered I turned down because I was too preoccupied with other mania. Roger had run off to Sante Fe trying to find himself when him and Mimi were through at the time, Collins wasn't in existence because of the recent death of Angel, Maureen and Joanne were fighting again, Benny was being an ass as usual, and I was just -there- in the middle of it all.  
  
I decided that I would take action at that moment, and do something nice for everybody. True it would leave me broke, but maybe it would help diminish my pessimism. "Free fries and drinks at the Life Café!!" I called out.  
  
"All right Mark!" called Collins slapping my back so forcefully it nearly knocked the breath from me. Clearly he was just as overjoyed as Roger about the rebirth of Mimi. "Come on everybody you heard the man, free food!!"  
  
"And no beer!" I shouted after him as he ran out the door with Joanne and Maureen. Nobody was coming back to the flat drunk tonight, plus I couldn't afford anything alcoholic. Mimi walked up to me and squeezed my arm.  
  
"I'm glad I'm still here Mark." She said so nonchalantly you'd think she was a bad actress after a horribly directed death scene.  
  
I smiled, "I'm glad you're here too Mimi. I don't think I could stand seeing Roger depressed all over again." I looked behind me to see Roger grabbing my jacket, his, and an old one of mine for Mimi to wear. Mimi placed her hand on my cheek and smiled. Her hand was so cold I jerked in surprise.  
  
"Thanks for taking care of him Mark." She said before walking out the door. Something was thrown over my head, and I couldn't help but laugh.  
  
"What have I told you about the hair, Roger?" I said taking the jacket off my head and putting it on.  
  
"Ah, what do you care Mark. You're the cameraman! You could gain fifty pounds and nobody would know it." He laughed coyly at his own crack of humor.  
  
"I wouldn't sit back and laugh if I were you Roger." I said exiting the door.  
  
"Why's that?" he asked.  
  
"Because," I turned back and looked at him with a crooked smile, "If you're the last one there--YOU'RE--paying." I took off running for the street corner, throwing my scarf on in the process.  
  
"You little prick!" I heard him laughing, chasing after me. For the first time in forever, I actually laughed. I had my best friend back. What more could a guy need? 


	2. The Life Cafe

Honestly, when I got there, I expected somebody to be bickering with the waitress, or find Collins half drunk. I shouldn't have been so hypercritical. I stared inside through the foggy windowpane; Every single one of them sat there, not bothering a soul, sharing some fries, and sipping on Coke and Pepsi. Roger nudged me in the side, "Looks like you can get this tab, 'Super Man'." He said poking at my multicolored shirt, walking into the café.  
  
"Just go save me a seat," I said pushing him aside, and headed for the bathroom. This time last year wasn't HE the one getting taunted by ME. Things were defiantly on their way to being normal again.  
  
"Hey Mark! Get a load of this!" I heard Maureen shout form the table. I sighed, deciding that Mother Nature could wait. When I got to the table, Maureen held an issue of The New York Times in her hands. At first I didn't see what the big deal was, but then I noticed the article Maureen was talking about. The heading read,  
  
"LOCAL BUSINESS MAN ARRESTED ON COUNTS OF BREAKING AND ENTERING"  
  
Right below the heading was a picture of Benny, my old roommate and friend. I snickered. This time last year he was running our asses all over town just for his benefactor. He needed a business, and we had no rent money. Therefore, WE, i.e. Roger and I, had to go. Now look who was in the hole. Mimi cackled, "That'll teach that son of a bitch!"  
  
"I guess even Muffy's money couldn't save him from bankruptcy. The article says he was stealing money from this photographer's house because he knew she had money, and she owed him some." Roger said through a confused grin, "Photographers make money?" He asked looking up at me.  
  
"If you're working for the right person, yes," I said staring at the other picture in the article. It showed a girl around our age, early twenties, staring in complete disbelief, with a look of disgust for Benny as he was hauled off her property. "Wow, she really looks pissed."  
  
"Don't you mean 'cute' Mark?" prodded Collins. I looked at him in surprise, how could he read my thoughts even before I thought of them?!  
  
"She is cute, but look where she lives. Some ritzy part of the city. She wouldn't give me a second glance." I looked at Collins, "Beside, we're not here to talk of my never beginning love life. We're here to celebrate Mimi." I looked at her, and she in return turned to Roger and he kissed her lightly. The waitress brought over two more colas, one for me, and the other for Roger. I raised my glass, "Last year we toasted to La Vi Bohem. This year, I toast to Roger and Mimi. And to the friend we lost," I looked down at the bubbling brown nectar, not quite knowing what to say about Angel, "We know he still watches over us to this day. I wish he was here now-- Merry Christmas guys."  
  
I looked at them; this time it wasn't the songwriter who had silenced them. Not the man who had known pain through drugs, suicide, and lost love, no, it hadn't been Roger. It was the filmmaker, I knew nothing but at the same time I knew everything-that was kind of nostalgic, in a creative way. I'd have to put that in one of my screenplays. I was brought out of my haze by a hand rubbing against mine.  
  
"Thanks Mark," Collins said half smiling.  
  
"He should be here with us now," said Mimi, "I came back, why couldn't he?"  
  
"Hell if I know," Collins said rubbing a hand across his face, "I just know I miss him, but I'm still glad you're here. So put a smile on that pretty face Mimi."  
  
Mimi smiled sweetly, "Thanks Collins."  
  
"Check!" I yelled. When the waitress brought the tab, I couldn't believe it.  
  
"What do you mean somebody has already paid for it?" I asked, "I'm the only one in my party that has any cash on me, besides Roger and Collins."  
  
"Don't look at me man, I came in with you."  
  
"You said you were paying," answered Collins.  
  
"She was a short brunette, she comes in here every once in a while." The waitress explained. "Mostly on Thursday nights."  
  
"Uh, thanks," I said confused, why was the waitress giving us all this information. Most of the time the people in New York are too crude to even tell you what time it is, let alone caring about whether or not somebody pays for your tab. There was something bout this night yet again. Last year was the most thrilling, mystical night of my life, and now the unexplained was happening all over again. I exited the Life Café with the same amount of money in my pocket I had when I entered. I had to find out who this girl was, and I would, on next Thursday night. 


	3. Rachel

Okay, here it was, Thursday night, and I had no earthly idea as I walked in to the Life Café who I was looking for: 'A girl with brunette hair.' --wow-- WHAT a description to go by. The mental sketch might've been helpful in L.A. All the chicks there were blonds, or so I've heard in the many Jay Leno monologues I've been forced to watch since Mimi moved in.  
  
Sitting down at a booth I called for a waiter and ordered water. Last weeks newspaper sat on the table so I opened it up to the story about Benny and the photographer and read it through. What in the world drove Benny to steal money from her? Allison was an exceedingly wealthy little tramp, what did Benny need from a photographer?  
  
Someone slammed down the paper, ripping it from my hands, and giving me an amazingly painful paper cut. "Wow!" I shouted, looking at the cut then at the person, "Easy killer!"  
  
What I saw in front of me took the breath form me. A woman, a very familiar, good-looking woman, stood there, her hand still plastered to the paper. I finally caught enough wind to get out, "Hey."  
  
"I've silenced the great Mark Cohen? Surly not." She said giggling tossing her long brunette hair behind her.  
  
"Are you the one who paid my tab the other day?" I asked.  
  
"Am I?" she asked shocked, "Mark, you don't even recognize me do you?"  
  
I handed her the paper, and pointed at the picture, "You?"  
  
She looked down at the paper, "Yes, that's me kicking that ass Benny off my property. But, WHO am I Mark? Think about it."  
  
And I did, long and hard. I was supposed to REMEMBER this girl? I thought I was here to tell a complete stranger thank you for paying the tab, then go away. Now I was playing twenty questions with this babe that knew my name.  
  
"I'm sorry ma'am, but I have no clue who you are."  
  
She sat down and smiled sweetly, "I thought you might not." She sighed, "You remember when Roger was dating April?"  
  
A pang of hurt resurfaced from the back of my mind as I thought of the lifeless body of April, floating in a pool of her own blood. I fought it off and shook my head, "Yeah, I remember."  
  
"Well, she brought her stupid teenage sister up here to meet her boyfriend once upon a time. When April saw Roger was shooting up again, she sent that sister upstairs with you, that way I wouldn't have to see it."  
  
Realization spread across my face, and I couldn't believe how much she'd grown up. True she was only seventeen when I was twenty, but still, she had braces, zits, a high school degree to get, but a common interest: The camera. This girl was April's sister little sister---  
  
"Rachel?" I asked. She stood up and came over, hugging me with all her might. I stood up and held her out at arms length and stared her up and down. "You've grown up!"  
  
"Mark, you're three years older than me, don't talk like we're an eternity apart." She said with a crooked smile.  
  
"I know, but still-It's great to see you're all right!" I grabbed the paper again, "I mean, look at your house!"  
  
"Apartment complex Mark, I live inside one of the apartments." She spoke slowly, like she was talking to a three year old. She did it on purpose, knowing from our conversation a long time ago I hated being talked down to.  
  
"I see April's humor didn't die with her," I smiled lightly. She smiled softly, looking at me in a strange, fixated gaze. I was glad she was doing okay, despite the suicide of her sister.  
  
"You wanna go for a walk?" I asked her, "This scene is beginning to bore me."  
  
"Sure, just let me go get my coat."  
  
I watched her walk away, and I still couldn't believe how well she turned out. She had a great career, a great attitude on life, and---whoo, a great ass--- 


	4. Walking After Midnight

"So, what led you back here? I thought after your sister…um…"  
  
"Committed suicide." She finished for me, staring at the ground in a weird yet wonderful concoction of being uncomfortable AND contented with the subject. "It's okay Mark. I've dealt with it…it's all in the past right?"  
  
"Yeah…I thought you'd stay back in Maine." I said shifting the area under discussion back to its original destination. We still walked the streets of New York hours after leaving the café, now just a block away from my flat, chatting about cinematography and our undying urge to have somebody discover us and rush the both of us off to L.A. to work elbow to elbow with the big boys. Somehow, despite my many attempts to not bring up April, I had screwed up. I felt awful for it too. What made me feel even smaller was the fact that Rachel had to be supportive for ME over the topic.  
  
"Well, I did go back to Maine to finish high school, but right after I graduated I bought this really expensive camera and stole the car to run away to Canada for a week."  
  
I laughed, "You just ran off?"  
  
"Yeah," she shrugged, "After April died my parents became so overprotective of me it's remarkable I had enough room to breath, let alone live my own life. Running off to shoot pictures of moose and snow banks was just a way of getting the point across to my parents…I wasn't a little kid anymore…and I wasn't April…"  
  
"I'm sorry I brought her up before, I didn't mean to—"  
  
She stood in front of me, "Mark, don't you ever think that you've done something immoral because you brought up my sister. Talking about it is proof that I've moved on. Okay?"  
  
I smile, "Okay."  
  
She smiles back, playfully punching me in the shoulder, "Sooo, what do you wanna do now?"  
  
"I don't care, you pick."  
  
"I want to see Roger."  
  
I was speechless. "What?"  
  
"You heard me, I want to see Roger."  
  
I chuckle, "You really are a piece of work you know that?" I start to walk up the street in a more hurried pace, now in front of the building, she catches up to me grabbing my scarf and turning me around to face her. I swear, she stared straight through me with those chocolate brown eyes, and it made me shudder inside.  
  
"Hey," Rachel smirked, bringing me back to wakefulness, "You're the one that said I could choose."  
  
"Am I arguing with you?"  
  
"No"  
  
"Didn't think so." I smile again. This had to be the most I've smiled in…oh God years! My life in New York has been a long and hard fought one. I come from Scarsdale, this little 'rich kid' town, and I moved to the Big Apple to find myself, and my work. True I had met a lot of friends I'll treasure all of my life, but the bad times have outdone the good on numerous occasions. I've seen my best friend suffer from addiction, and the shell of human being he became after he contracted AIDS. I saw another good friend sub come to this disease, not to mention seeing the body of desperate young woman, who sought release from the same infection by slitting her wrists. Rachel comes from the same blood as April, and I feared bringing her anywhere near this again.  
  
"Mark! Are you coming?" she called. She had already entered the building!!  
  
I ran to catch up with her, "How did you know—"  
  
"Has it really been that long Mark?" I just stared at her as she knocked on the door. My heart was going a hundred miles a minute. I couldn't do this to her! I couldn't allow her to enter this life of pain she had the chance to escape from. I wouldn't let her be a repeat of April…NOT to her.  
  
"Rachel!!!" I heard Roger's voice boom from the door. Again, I was brought back to reality. He was twirling her around in circles. The two of them were acting as if the whole incident with April had been a hoax. A dream; something that had never happened. I walked in and took my jacket and scarf off.  
  
"Are you okay Roger?" Rachel asked, enthusiasm oozing from her pores.  
  
"Better than ever." Mimi sat on the couch, but seeing me come in, came over to converse, "Who is she?"  
  
I sigh, "April's sister." 


	5. Too Good?

I stood behind my camera adjusting the focus as best I could. People busied by on the common intersection, running to their various places, appointments and such. It was my job to catch it all. My film depended on it. A job depended on it. I tried to focus on diverse angles and takes, but I couldn't think straight. I hadn't been able to for a solid week. Not since April had moved in. Sighing, I tuned the camera a different angle and began to film.  
  
"Mark?" I heard from behind.  
  
"Hello Joanne." I say recognizing the voice. "You need help with tech stuff again?" I continue to talk as I sway the camera in a horizontal fashion to get a 'skyline' view.  
  
"No, me and Maureen were across the street and saw you out here in the cold and thought we'd buy you some cocoa."  
  
I turn and take the cocoa, I try to act nonchalant, but everybody is capable of reading my thoughts lately…including the mighty Joanne. "You're upset about Rachel moving in aren't you?"  
  
"Hell yes I am!" I stop myself before I go any further. "I mean—"  
  
"Mark?" she scorns me like a child.  
  
"Fine, so I care. What does it matter? Rachel's a big girl now…she can take care of herself."  
  
"If it's any consolation to you, I'm scared for the poor kid's well-being too. She's too good for this place, and for all of us. She deserves better than to live in the gutter on ends meat."  
  
For some reason that burned me, that hit me like a slap in the face. "What? Are you saying that I don't deserve her? That's she too good for ME?" As soon as the words left my mouth I didn't know what to think. Did I care for her??  
  
"Mark?! What does that have to do with—uh—WHAT?!"  
  
I turn around immediately, "Never mind Joanne, just never mind." 


	6. A Short Talk

I lay on my bed in a total state of detachment from reality. I didn't know what to think or believe. Rachel is too good for this, and for us. She has a great job at the New York Times, had a great apartment in a classy part of the city, and she gave up the upper class lifestyle for THIS. Truth be told, I was scared for her, and I wished she had never crossed paths with us on Christmas Eve. I still had nightmares of April, her cold, dead, emerald eyes staring expressionless at the bathroom floor, blood pouring from her delicate wrists, wet spots on her cheeks from where she had cried…she had died that fast. There was a knock at the door, and I jumped in alarm.  
  
"Mark? Can I come in?"  
  
Rachel…  
  
"Yes, I'm decent." I call back to her. She enters silently, closing the door with so as not to wake anybody. She stands there in one of Mimi's pairs of p.j.'s. Even the pajamas don't seem to match up with what this girl justly deserved. She stands there for a few seconds rocking nervously from one foot to the other.  
  
"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry Rachel…you wanna sit down?" I ask moving my legs closer to my body. She sits, sighs, and then stares at me. She smirks a bit and runs her hand through my hair, I tremble in response, "It's not everyday you get to see the great Mark Cohen with no gel in his hair. You have really puffy hair."  
  
"Puffy?" I half laugh, "Oh my God." I fall onto my back laughing. She lies across my chest where she's staring right into my eyes.  
  
"So how long are you staying?" I ask.  
  
"I'm…I'm thinking of moving in." I stare at her like a dote, rising up.  
  
"You think I'm too good for this don't you?"  
  
I'm taken aback at her sixth sense, but I nod, "Yes."  
  
"Roger's saying the same thing, Mark. What makes me any better than you or the others?"  
  
"Rachel, most of us chose this lifestyle because we thought we would make something of ourselves along the way. Roger and me, dammit, we're still trying to find out what it is we want and need to do with our lives. You come from this rich family. Rachel…STOP rebelling against your parents. Get outta the gutter while you can." I turned my head, "I always thought I was the one that would survive…now I find I'm just as lost as the rest of us." I take one of her hands in mine. "We deserve this. Your sister didn't deserve this…and by God, YOU don't deserve this."  
  
"You're forgetting something Mark." She stared at me, "What I want and what I deserve are the same thing. I deserve to be happy and WANT to be here."  
  
"What would posses you to come back to the place where your sister died? What could possibly be so important?"  
  
Tears formed in her eyes, and in pierced my every fiber. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry!" Before I know what I'm doing I've wrapped my arms around her kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I hate being in here. I can feel my sister's presence all around and just going near that bathroom…God Mark, it's hell! My sister DIED in there!" she emphasized with a point. "Mark…I came back for one reason…and it wasn't to see Roger again…and it's not a 'what'…" she leans up, and stares through me as she'd done a week ago, when she first did it. I shudder again, and for the first time realize what's been there for years probably…Shit, was I that blind? I lean forward and kiss her, unable to hold back any longer. I had wanted to kiss her those two or three years ago.  
  
I pull away, and kissing her forehead say, "I'm sorry I'm so stupid Rachel."  
  
"I'll forgive you if you do one thing."  
  
"I'm almost afraid to ask. What?"  
  
She smiles, "Keep the gel outta your hair tomorrow." I bust into rolling laughter.  
  
"Deal" 


	7. Work And Bad Moods

Roger lay sprawled on the sofa strumming no particular song on his fender guitar with Mimi hugging his leg that hanged off the couch, half asleep. Whereas, on the opposite side of the room, I tried my best to piece together the footage I obtained the month before without lashing out and throwing that damn guitar into the street. Somehow, no matter how much footage I shot, I STILL didn't feel like I had found a true plot for my own film. The setting? Easy: New York City. The Storyline? As before, I have naught, kaput, nothing, zero, zilch. This is the city that never sleeps and I can't even come up with a fucking storyline…that's why I was now shooting footage for travel agencies, my so-called 'job' these days. If I couldn't use the shots for my own pathetic film, I'd sell them for rent money. Roger hit another wrong note and I wince.  
  
"Roger, dude, please, I'm begging you. Stop."  
  
"Just a few more cords and I'll quit alright?" he said indifferently, as if my request didn't matter.  
  
I allowed a growl of agitation to be released. He had been saying 'A few more cords' for an hour now. I HAD to get this put together just right or we'd go homeless and hungry next month. Mimi had gone back to work, and was pulling her weight, but Roger hadn't gone on a gig with his band since the 'Mimi incident' on Christmas Eve, claiming he could write a whole album in a month, and the new landlord that had taken over since Benny was arrested had upped the rent.  
  
"No. You've been working on this all afternoon. Stop NOW." I demanded, not in my nature at all.  
  
He looked intently at me in surprise for a few moments, but sits the guitar down understanding I was loosing my temper. We have a code. A "Best Friends Code" if you will? We know when to drop things, and when to bring things up. Roger understood that I was bringing in money for us, and that I needed a certain extent of quiet, so he dropped the guitar playing for a while with no argument. And yet, somehow Mimi felt this was her place to butt in.  
  
"What's with the attitude Mark? Roger was just working."  
  
"What the hell am I doing over here then?!" I exploded.  
  
Now that I had gotten an attitude with the precious girlfriend, NOW he had permission to talk…  
  
"Don't take your stress out on Mimi, Mark, all she did was ask you a question." Roger states with a voice of authority and calmness…I had to fight off the urge to want to smack him over his arrogant musician's head with the tablet I held. A.k.a. I needed to get the hell outta the apartment for a while.  
  
"You're right. I'm sorry Mimi." I stop the tape rolling at the moment and grab my legal pad, jacket, scarf, and walk out of the loft. Fresh air…fresh, contaminated, polluted city air. Breathe it in boys and girls…breathe it in…  
  
THIS is what I was shooting a travel agency film for? I wanted to drag people even more people to this place to be my competition and to ruin their lives?? THIS??!! My negativity only grew thicker as I walked further into the street. Something positive HAD to enter my system soon, so I began to think. Rachel soon entered my mind, and I smiled inside and out.  
  
"OW!"  
  
I had collided with somebody. "Oh, gosh miss I'm sorry." I say bending over to give her my hand, but when her curly brown hair reveals her face I pull my hand back to my side. She is really the last person I wish to see right now. Just seeing her…especially with Joanne, makes me sick. I haven't been with a girl since her, and I almost feel like I drove her to being a lesbian. Let me tell you, that makes your ego just BURST with optimism. I sigh, "Hello Maureen."  
  
She stands up on her own, not complaining I had taken my hand back, being the true feminist she is. "Geez Mark, you think you could at least keep your eyes UP when you're walking around. Save a lot of us—"  
  
"I said I'm sorry." I snap.  
  
"Whoa, you're in a mood." Maureen knows me too well; she decides to drop it to my pleasure. "So, where were you headed?"  
  
"Nowhere. Yourself?" I decide to renounce my mood for a tolerable conversation with her.  
  
"Heading to Joanne's office. She's helping me with a gig down by Delancy Street. So?" she smiles coyly. "How's your lil' thing with April's baby sister going?"  
  
I laugh at the way she says 'little'. "You are such a hic Maureen I swear. And as for our relationship, it's none of your business."  
  
"Being a prick doesn't make it go away." She calls after me as I leave her. I only smirk. "Don't hide your feelings from her Mark! You need to move on."  
  
"I know Maureen, I know." 


	8. Closer To The Truth

Around two A.M. I decided to drag my sorry ass up the stairs to the loft. I had thrown my notebook in a trashcan hours ago, losing hope in every finding enough insight to write a decent screenplay. Now I only had to open the door and crawl into bed, forgetting about this whole miserable day, and the contents within it. I shut the door locking it behind, and when I turned around the light was on in the bathroom. Who was up at this hour in our loft anymore? A flash of terror set in as I realized this was the set up the night Roger and I fount April's body. The adrenaline started to pump through my veins, and an involuntary cold sweat broke out across my forehead as I crept toward the bathroom. I shut my eyes as I was about to enter and when I opened them I---I saw nothing. Somebody had forgot to turn off the bathroom light…that's all. I flipped the switch off and headed to Roger's room to see if he was awake. He lay with his muscular arms around Mimi, and I couldn't help but smile. I then snuck into Collins' old bedroom to check up on Rachel…she wasn't there. My heart began to go a hundred miles a minute as worry surged within my head. Where was she?!  
  
"Rachel?" I called racing to my bedroom, "Rachel?!" I had to cuff my mouth to stop myself from yelling again. She was asleep on my bed, curled up with one of my screenplays. I sighed heavily and turned on the light to my room. Tip toeing I creep up beside her, taking the notebook from her hand and placing it on my dresser. She doesn't even stir.  
  
"That's what you get for staying up all night reading Mark's screenplays of infamy." I whisper to her incoherent body as I take off my clothes, throwing on some sweats and an old blue t-shirt for the night. I don't want to wake her up, so I cover her with a blanket and start towards her room. Not before, however, I sit on the edge of the bed, ogling at her beautiful face. "You know I can't say this enough, but you don't fit in here Rachel. You're the first person I've cared about in a long time, and…and, and WHY can't I say this to your face," I murmur resentfully. Finally, unable to hold my eyes open any longer, I head for the door. When I flip off the light I hear her groan drowsily.  
  
"Mark?" she yawns.  
  
"Yeah, it's me." She suddenly realizes where she is.  
  
"Oh Mark, I'm sorry, I'll go to my room." She starts to get up, and I want to protest, tell her to stay in the room with me. Tell her that I want to hold her all night, feel her body next to mine. But I can't! GOD it'd be nice if I could grow some balls for once!  
  
"It really doesn't matter to me but, why were you in here?" I finally am able to spit out.  
  
"It's really cold in my room so I came in here to warm up while my little heater warmed my room, but got caught up in reading one of your screenplays and I guess I fell asleep."  
  
I laugh lightly, "That says a lot for my plays."  
  
"No! I didn't mean it like that—"  
  
I smile, "It was a joke Rachel, it's okay. Look, I refuse to have you freeze to death in that igloo for a room of yours. Just stay with me for the night."  
  
"You sure you don't mind?"  
  
Mind? Me…MIND?! Woman I would jump oceans to have you in here with me!!! Talking to me about angles and architecture and bad films we've seen and other shit the rest of the world wouldn't understand! Holding you until dawn forced us apart. Mind? Do I mind????  
  
"No, I don't mind at all."  
  
She yawns so hard she looses her footing and falls towards me.  
  
"Easy killer," I joke catching her. "Let's get to bed, my eyes are laced with cement over here."  
  
"Same here," she says crawling into bed. I lay right beside her, taking my glasses off then wrapping my arms around her praying she didn't reject me. When she doesn't I sighed then in realization thought. She wouldn't reject me of this. I meant something to her. Why would she be here beside me if I didn't? The only thing is, we hadn't done anything but talk of the silver screen and photography, besides that one kiss. How much did I mean to her? God, I sound like a sixteen-year-old girl on the telephone. I sigh.  
  
"God I could stay like this forever," she says turning towards me where are torsos touching, her brunette hair tickling my chin. "I feel safe with you Mark. Not many people have been able to do that since my sister died."  
  
"I'd hold you forever if you'd let me." I want to say, but don't. "I'm glad Rachel." I say in authenticity.  
  
"I know Mark." She tilts her head up and kisses my nose. "Good night Fluffy."  
  
I smile at the reference to the blond mop on my scalp. "Night" 


	9. Seasons Of Love

"Give Into Love, Or Live In Fear"  
  
Slowly the rolling thunder of a late summer storm woke me, yet the inviting rain called me to stay in bed. I rolled over and wrapped my arms around Rachel who in response groaned then fell silent again. How many months had she been there by my side every morning now? Six or seven months? That sounded about right…the funny thing about the whole situation was we had yet to sleep together. I'm still dumbfounded that these testosterone infused hormones of mine haven't tried anything. No…I'm not that way, at least not with her in any case. Sure there were nights where we confessed how much we had in common while we chatted, how much we enjoyed each others company, and fell asleep kissing each other. Nevertheless we had never 'done the deed' and we had never said the 'L' word. The only word ever really uttered to me was, "Fluffy".  
  
I knew in my heart I did love her, and in my own way I knew she did too. I understood my reasoning for not opening my mouth to her. It was the sheer fact that I had been hurt before…I had been discarded for another girl…that my spirits on true love were dampened to an uttermost extreme. Rachel's reasons I'm not absolutely sure of. She had never mentioned a guy that she'd dated in the past that had done anything horrible to her unless she considers the pure, straight-up reality that there weren't many guys who could talk of cinematography for over three hours straight with her a form of mental rape.  
  
The rumbling thunder brought me back to reality and I nuzzled my face beside her neck and tried to find sleep again. Before I could even try a gentle knock came at the door and I groaned.  
  
"Come in." I say in a half whisper not wanting to wake Rachel. She had not had the chance to sleep the past couple of days. Not with the September 11th events anyway…she had been on assignments nonstop. I worry about her. Rachel HAS to be mentally exhausted and emotionally fatigued having to go out and take pictures of all this death and destruction every single day, and if not, well…I know she's more human than that. She hasn't had a choice, Rachel's taking the pictures for her job, and I feel like the lowest scum of the earth sitting at home gawking at my camera, too chicken to even TRY and go look at ground zero. Puh, some cameraman I am. Slowly the door finally creaked open and Roger walked in.  
  
"Hey dude," he whispers, "Did I wake you?"  
  
"No, I was about to get up anyhow." I slowly pull my body from the bed and put the mass of the blankets over the wiped out body of Rachel whom doesn't even stir. I kiss her forehead then follow Roger into the kitchen. Mimi is at the table sipping on some tea; drowsiness still very plain in her face despite the reality that her clothes and make-up were on.  
  
"Morning chica," I say kissing her cheek and going to poor myself some of the tea.  
  
"Morning Mark. You finally get Rachel to bed?"  
  
"Yeah, she was so tore up by some of the stuff she saw. Rachel says they're finding body parts everywhere." Mimi cringes as I say this.  
  
"Poor little babe."  
  
I sip the tea, "Did you two sleep well?"  
  
"About as well as you can sleep around here anymore." He half laughs. Not outta humor, but…I suppose out of a mixture of torn emotion full of terror but at the same time of hope.  
  
"Have you called the girls yet and checked on them?" I ask.  
  
"Joanne called this morning around six saying that her and Maureen had gotten on a boat out of the city on the 11th and are staying in New Jersey till things settle down." Roger answered. "And they were sorry they took forever to get that to us." Slowly, one knot in my stomach faded.  
  
"How about Collins?" I find my hands are shaking uncontrollable and I have to sit down my tea. Roger smiles wholeheartedly for me and puts a hand over mine.  
  
"He's fine Mark, I called him right after I got off the phone with the lezzies."  
  
I think to myself for a second…am I really about to ask the question I think I'm about to ask?? "What about Benny?"  
  
"Didn't you hear Mark?" asked Mimi.  
  
"Uhhh…noooo!" I'm struck by sheer dread. Sure he was an ass, sure he was a backstabber, but once upon a time Benny was my roommate and my friend.  
  
"He moved to L.A. after his sentence. I thought you knew." Mimi said. "I'm sorry Mark!"  
  
I shake my head gabbing my temples, "No, but that's okay…I'm just glad he's fine. It's amazing how one day can change your whole perspective of people's lives."  
  
" Mark I never thought I'd be afraid of planes flying into buildings" Roger says, "This is America for God's sake. It's not supposed to happen here!" Roger sits beside Mimi and wraps an arm around her.  
  
"I know, but…try not to talk about it when she gets up," I ask, "She's so upset…" For some unknown reason my eyes start to fill with tears…what am I talking about…it's not 'unknown'. It's right there in front of my face. I love her.  
  
"I'm going to go turn on the news and see what's happened over night." Mimi says getting up.  
  
"Why bother, just look out the window," Roger adds bitterly.  
  
I look at Roger, " I'm going to tell you Roger, all I could think about the other day when all this shit happened was 'where's Rachel' 'I gotta find Rachel' and now when she comes in late, looking like someone's raped her of her pride and crawls into bed sobbing, and I hold her and realize what kind of coward I really am and how amazing she is…and how much I love her, and want to protect her, I don't know what to do."  
  
"I know Mark. She is an amazing person…she's April's sister, and while April was a coward for escaping her fate, that's doesn't mean she wasn't a tough girl. There were so many times she tried to get me to stop the drug use and she paid the price for my mistakes." He shrugs it off, "The point is I'm okay, and Rachel's going to be okay, just be there for her Mark. The fact that I wasn't there for April was the thing that tore her down. You love her right?"  
  
I nod, "Yes. Enough to drag her and me both out of this city if she asks it of me. I've said it from the beginning, she's too good for this place—"  
  
"Mark, YOU'RE too good for this place."  
  
We both jerk around and see Rachel standing there, tears brimming her eyes.  
  
I stand, "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing…for the first time in days Mark, absolutely nothing."  
  
I shift my feet nervously, "How much did you hear."  
  
"Enough to know that the stay has been worth it and sleeping next to you each night has been the most fulfilling thing in my life since my sister's death." She walks up to me and wrap he arms around me, and I wrap mine around her, holding her as though I'd never let go, even if you came at me with the jaws of life…well…maybe if you came after me with---  
  
"I love you."  
  
Finally, the tears broke free, and I whispered back, "I love you too." I took my head from the crook of her shoulder and picked her up, and spinning her around and in proud proclamation yelled, "I LOVE YOU!" at the top of my lungs. When I sat her down I stared into her gorgeous eyes and the truth ran freely, "Do you know how much I worried the other day when those buildings came down? If you had been in one, God, it's bad enough the way I feel for the losses of our city, but if I had lost you, my world would have collapsed. I love you. Rachel..."  
  
"You know Mark, I don't think you could've picked a better time for us to admit this."  
  
I smile, "No day but toady right?"  
  
The applause of two of my best friends was heard from behind.  
  
"It's about time!" Mimi laughed.  
  
"Bravo!" Roger bellowed.  
  
"No," I say solemnly walking to the window looking at the smoke and rubble and the policemen and firemen burrowing through the remains of the World Trade Center buildings at ground zero, searching feverishly for lives. I held Rachel close and said, "Bravo to them. Bravo to love. Bravo to America."  
  
Suddenly I knew how to finish my film…  
  
  
  
  
  
"In these dangerous times, where it seems the world is ripping away at the seems, we all can learn how to survive from those who stare death squarely in the face every day and we should reach out to each other and bond as a community, rather than hide from the terrors of life at the end of the millennium.  
  
~Jonathan Larson~ 


End file.
